Stop Performing Your Pain: The Difference Between Authentic and Algorithmic Vulnerability
Somewhere between "fake it 'til you make it" and "vulnerability is trending," we've turned crying into content. Perfect lighting. Artful captions. Chaos with a brand strategy.
I've never been a big social media person, but lately I've found myself scrolling and I'm fascinated by what I see. Just Being Melanie giving voice to perimenopause? Slay. The countless reels of people sobbing into the camera? Hard pass.
Perhaps I’m missing something, but … If you're genuinely falling apart, is step one really finding the best camera angle?
Which brings me to the question: are we actually sharing our pain, or just performing it?
When Authenticity Becomes Another Performance
If filming your tears helps you, then … call me. Please. Let's talk this out.
But when we as a society are turning crying into performance art for likes? We've turned vulnerability into another thing to "get right", and we're missing a very key opportunity to meet our true selves. Our essence. In my coaching work, I see this pattern everywhere - people exhausting themselves trying to be the "right" kind of vulnerable.
Showing up as your authentic, vulnerable self isn't asking yourself "How many likes can I get"? It's eating popcorn for dinner and calling it a vegetable and not caring whether other people like you more or less because of it.
Authenticity is not the artfully disheveled "I woke up like this" post. It's showing up to a video call with bedhead and owning it instead of apologizing for existing in your actual human form.
The difference?
One is performed for validation. The other is just… being human.
Why We Hide Our Real Mess
Perhaps we're terrified that if people see the actual chaos — the 2 AM "Is it normal to talk to your plants?" Googles, or the "sorry, what was the question?" moments after spacing out in meetings — they'll think we're not good enough.
So we create two equally exhausting options:
Hide completely.
Perform our mess strategically.
But people don't want your curated breakdown. They just want you!
"Ah, but Christine," you may ask, "What if they don't want me as I am?" That's ok. We are not everybody's cup of tea. Nor are we meant to be.
Your Authentic Light is Magnetic
When you stop curating your chaos and start owning your beautiful disaster energy, something shifts. People connect with you — not because you're performing relatability, but because you're, quite simply, relatable.
They text you during their 3 AM existential crisis because they know you get it. Like, really get it. Not because you posted about getting it.
Your authentic light isn't about the perfect vulnerable moment. It's about being the person who sometimes forgets important calls because you were deep in conversation with your cat about the meaning of life.
Try This Instead
If you want to step out of performed vulnerability and into your authentic light, start here:
Share the photo where you actually look tired, not the third retake
Write like you're texting your best friend, not addressing "hey everyone"
Post about your struggle without offering a lesson or silver lining - or better yet, stop posting and start living
Show up as you are, even when - especially when - it's messy.
The Real Difference
Performed vulnerability asks: "How can I package my pain for maximum engagement?" Authentic light asks: "How can I be genuinely human without apologizing for taking up space?"
One drains you because you're always managing your image. The other energizes you because you're finally allowed to just exist.
Your real mess — the unfiltered, uncurated, "I'm figuring it out as I go" version — isn't content.
It's connection.
And in a world full of perfectly lit breakdowns, that's actually revolutionary.
What would change if you stopped performing your pain and started sharing your truth?
I'd love to hear about it.
